Passing By
by Puffie
Summary: How a short moment between two people could be remembered in passing memories. KyxDizzy ONESHOT


Author's Note: I don't own Guilty Gear :)

Edit: This fic is majorly renovated :P

This is a intentionally short piece of KyxDizzy. If you're tired of this pairing then don't bother reading this fic. This contains mature content but if you're looking for a smoking hot detailed sex scene this fic is not for you either.

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Passing By

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On her first night at his house she cannot sleep. His bed was too comfortable, his room, too silent. No engine noises, no little vibrations of an airship to rock her to sleep. So she stared at the ceiling and watch how the dark shadows from the window paint the pure white space.

So she sat up, stepped out, walked away and went down the stairs, her left hand feeling the smooth texture of the wallpaper. She would stop this little habit after several months; fearing of falling down the stairs; she would use her right hand to grip the wooden handrail, and her left to support her bulging belly. Her baby would never come down the same steps.

The young man's breathing from the nearby couch became audible as Dizzy's pajamas touched the carpeted floor of the living room. She would be used to passing by the sight of a sleeping form under a thick sheet; a considerable amount of paperwork was stacked at the table beside him, never left unfinished.

Adjusting his blanket, turning off his lamp, and removing his shoes would soon be added on Dizzy's routine of drinking a glass of milk or water on her night-walking hours.

After refreshing herself with a warm beverage, she passed by the living room again to see Ky. It was the only way to the stairs, to the two rooms at the second floor- the bedroom and his office. Little did she know that by living in his house, she would miss her old home.

Ky had shifted his position when she returned, the outline of his face now traced by the pale moonlight. The young woman found herself staring at his peaceful expression, so pure, untainted by his sword beside him. In his face, there were no traces of the nightmares he has gone through- no hate, no war, no death.

She would cherish that sight, for there would be days where she would search for a smile on him, but find none: In her next visits, she would arrive at his home only to see his face having a more forlorn look; sometimes his head would face upward in stress, sometimes bowed down in frustration, like a soldier defeated in battle .

Everything will be alright- she'd tell him eye to eye. She will be always there for him, like how she was standing by, watching over.

So she stood there and gave one last look on his gentle, childlike facade, every feature full of beauty- his pretty eyes, scar-less cheeks and golden hair.

She looked at his lips- his lips that would claim hers on a night at their balcony. His arms would be wrapped around her waist in a loving embrace; she, in turn, would return his touch with her hands on his face, caring and soft. The longer they would be apart, the more that kiss would go deeper, full of hunger, locked in desire, with restless longing.

Lying down again in Ky's bed and snugging herself under her blanket, Dizzy listened to the thud of her beating heart, waiting for its pounding to slow down. She clutched her chest and and slowly breathed to hold back the emotions that she felt when she passed by the sleeping knight.

At a moment, seemingly bound to happen, an impulse, where his body would press upon her and held her down, she'll remember the nights where she thought of him and him alone. As she would bear all the weight he had and share the heat with his skin, she would cry in pain, in his stead, as her tears trickle down with the sweat all over her face.

Hand to hand, fingers intertwined, heart to heart, breaths touching each other's lips- both would fill the air with the sound and smell of lustful pleasure as the sheets crumpled under their moving bodies. There at that room both of them were naked, innocence stripped down, their sexes exposed to each other's innermost being. Intoxication. Penetration. Infatuation.

There she lay and closed her eyes to dream.

On a night, hidden in the dark, she'll look into his eyes to see love, buried under guilt and shame.

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Product of boredom and inspiration....

Needs more tweaking...

Hope you like it, please review :)


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